


Lap Dance

by pocket_vvatch



Category: Jared Leto Joker, Joker - Fandom, Suicide Squad - Fandom, The Joker - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_vvatch/pseuds/pocket_vvatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lap Dance is a two part Joker X Reader fic. Contains smut. It's also over on my Wattpad, which is "storystomakeyousmile" or "pocketwatch". If you liked this, a vote over on Wattpad would be much appreciated :).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lap Dance

"You're late."   
You turned around slowly, blood-red lipstick still in your hand. The joker stood in the doorway of your dressing room, in the back of a highly established club, of which he managed.   
He looked menacing in the doorway, his hands crossed on his cane, his blue eyes locked on you with a frightening stare. Except you weren't frightened, you were crazy.  
"And you're cute when you brood, Mistah J." You laughed and turned back to your dressing room mirror. You could still see Joker behind you, glaring, as you finished applying your lipstick.   
You were due to perform at least half an hour ago, if not more. But you had been in a very highly established club and were getting lucky with aces, so you decided to go easy on punctuality tonight.   
Joker was still staring at you, "oh c'mon Mistah J, stop looking at me like that. Or keep looking at me like that, I think I like it." You giggled as you let your bare leg slip out of the slit in your gold dress. You traced lazy circles on the ground with the points of your toes and stared unflinchingly right back into Joker's eyes.   
He took a threatening step toward you, then another. He wasn't too far from you, within reaching distance, when he said "I don't like it when you're late, Dollface,"   
You pushed off your vanity and closed the distance between you two, "oh, Mistah J," you said, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into the gesture, rolling his eyes back and purring into your hand. He wanted you to grovel, apologise, beg for forgiveness, "I don't care." You said.  
He snapped his head up then. He was furious. You revelled in it.   
He pushed you back against the dressing vanity, "you think you can play with me, Dollface?"   
You threw your head back and laughed, arching your back so your plunging neckline was staring J in the face. He purred again and dropped his face between your breasts, bracing himself against the dressing table while the other gripped the small of your back and travelled down across your ass, to the back of your thigh and back up again. You dragged a hand through his hair, forcing him to look up at you.   
"You know I can." You whispered.   
He laughed manically, "you drive me craaaaaaazyyyyyy, Dollface, all that swagger's gonna get you-"   
You tugged on his hair and flipped the two of you. He was now pressed against the dressing table, his hand still at your back. You placed a knee between his legs, one hand on his chest, one fisted in his hair.   
"Am I gonna get hurt, Mistah J? Are your gonna hurt me?" You threw your head back again and cackled as you watched his expression develop from surprise to anger, to somewhere between admiration, fury and lust.  
"Awwww puddin', I don't drive you crazy," you leaned in, pressing your body against his as you touched your lips to his, but didn't kiss him, "I drive you INSANE!" You screamed against his mouth.  
He growled, rather than purred, at this and smashed his lips onto yours. You laughed into the kiss as he picked you up and sat you down on the dressing table. You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer as you undid his tie and pouted.  
"Now I'm gonna be super late, d'you want me to miss my show, Mistah J?"   
He buried his head in the crook of your neck and kissed, "I want you to give me a show, Dollface,"   
You chuckled, "see, the thing is, puddin'," you said, as his kisses dragged lower, to the top of your breast, "I ain't your toy," his kisses hesitated, briefly, "I'm your challenge."   
You smiled wickedly as you pushed him off of you and sauntered from the room.

You swayed up the steps to your golden dancing cage, smiling at the crowd, catching the eye of a few wealthy and dangerous men. A chair of dark wood and gilded gold sat in the middle of the cage. You took your time as you sat in it, it was luxurious, expensive, but nothing too flashy. Nonetheless, you sat like a Queen, the chair your throne, the ogling crowd your subjects. And directly across from you, in his own throne, was the Clown King. You smiled at him sweetly before tipping your head back, rolling your neck, drinking in the music, letting the vibrations reverberate deep into your bones, your very being. The first beat hit and you looked up again, right into J's piercing blue eyes. Usually when you performed, it was for him more so than it was for anyone else in the room, and you'd choose the best or most expensive looking man the club had to offer. But tonight you decided it was his turn to perform right alongside you. You'd give him a show alright, he'd be the show. The thought of playing with him on stage fizzled in your belly as you stalked towards him, a determined grin on your face. You curtseyed as you came to a stop in front of him, the crowd's eyes glued to the two of you. Though you were bowing to him, as you straightened you held all the power, you saw it in his eyes that he was intimidated. Not frightened but...he'd finally met his match. Someone to threaten his title as the most ruthless man in Gotham. Despite the fact that you worked for him.  
You held your hand out to him, your wrist swathed in gold and crystal, "care to dance, my King?" You knew he liked the title.   
He studied your hand, expressionless, for a moment and then glanced up into your mischievous eyes. "Anything for you, Dollface." He grinned manically as he took your hand and pulled you toward him, placing his free hand on the small of your back.  
You took the stance as an oppertunity and gracefully waltzed the two of you back to the cage while the steady hum of the music stayed pleasant. A delicate melody played as you two danced and twirled innocently. As the build up to the crescendo of the music began you held one of his hands above you, placed one at your hip and shimmied back into his chest. You turned your face into his neck. To the crowd it looked like a lustful gesture, part of the performance as you pecked his neck, but as you reached his ear you tightened his hand around the fabric of the dress and your waist and whispered, all while shimmying and grinding against him, "when the beat drops, rip."   
You then pushed off him, keeping his hands in place as you twirled once, twice, thrice.   
Then the build up of the wonderful music finally crashed down in a wonderful wave of ecstasy that you felt thrum through your body and mind as J ripped your dress from your body. You stood there in a winner's stance, swathed in lingerie made from gold and diamonds. 

The crowd roared, and you swayed your hips as you looked to your King.   
"Ohhhhh," he growled as he came toward you, silver teeth flashing in a brilliant grin, "you do not disappoint, Dollface,"   
You smiled as you ran your hand through your hair seductively and spun so his chest slammed into your back. You let his hands roll over the crystals and the bare skin beneath.  
"While I am a fan of this wonderful, wonderful garment," his gravelly voice whispered in your ear as you danced, "I'd like it a lot better on the floor, Dollface."  
You threw your head back and laughed, truly enjoying yourself as you turned into his neck once again and said, "call me y/n."   
You then bent over and ground against his crotch. This made the crowd (and him) go crazy, they cheered and threw dollar bills, single roses, even someone's lace panties.   
As the second beat drop approached you straightened, spun, and threw J down onto the chair you previously sat on. While the thrum of the music continued, you tied his hands to the chair with the gold chains around your wrists.   
He laughed dangerously, "you're pushin' it now, baby. Joker doesn't like to be made a toy from his toys,"  
"Awwww puddin," you bit out through gritted teeth as you pulled the chair he sat on toward you with surprising force, "good thing I ain't ya toy then, huh?"   
He growled less than playfully as you danced on his lap, throwing your head back and swaying your hips, gently touching his hard crotch with your ass, teasing him. He groaned in frustration and pleasure throughout it all, and you laughed to yourself. You were making a fool of the Clown King in front of his very own court. You swung your leg around his hips, straddling him as you began to make slow circles with your hips, he groaned again and stared, unwaveringly, into your eyes.   
"You're gonna pay for this, Dollface."   
You laughed at the threat. The thing that made you special to the Joker was that no matter how much he tried, he couldn't break you. You were not a spirit to be broken. You matched him, his equal in every dark and twisted way.   
As the final beat drop built up inside and around you, you caressed J's exposed throat, "J, d'you remember what I asked?" You said, feigning an innocent stare, of which he willingly bought.  
"Do I what?" It seemed hard for him to focus on what you were saying, as he was more so focused on what you were doing.   
You smiled and kissed his throat as the build up began to quickly reach its peak, "I said," you whispered against his neck, waiting for that final plummet of the wonderful music.   
And as the beat plummeted, you moved your hand up to his jaw and snapped his face to come millimetres from yours. Through clenched teeth you said, "call me y/n."   
And then you kissed him hard on his red lips as the crowd erupted in euphoria and cheers. A performance they, and the Clown King, would surely not forget.


	2. Lap Dance - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of "Lap Dance". Includes smut. Enjoy!

Alone in your dressing room, you examined the slender dagger amongst the many others you kept stored in various places around the room. You worked with dangerous people, you were a dangerous person and you found under preparation to be a bit inconvenient.   
This one happened to be taped under the low marble coffee table, of which you had your feet propped upon. After your performance with J, you'd decided you wanted to be alone for a bit before he sought you out.  
You let the dagger relax in your hand as your body melted into the plush sofa. A sheen of sweat covered your entire body, bathing you in a shimmering glow. You were exhausted, your chest still rising and falling unevenly. This, accompanied by the low lights, distant hum of music and impossibly comfortable couch should have been enough to send you to sleep. 

You couldn't sleep, though. There was a thrumming deep in your bones. Pulsing, electric waves keeping the flow of your blood company while an animal of adrenaline and excitement prowled in the pit of your stomach. Lower, even.   
You knew why, of course. It was him. His body, his face, his lips and hands on your skin as he kissed you all over. The sound of his voice as he growled low in your ear. The very thought of him at times like this sent your stomach reeling  and put a wicked grin on your face.   
His approach tonight was inevitable, as you were to "pay" for your behaviour.  
You laughed to yourself. No, you thought, I won't pay a dime.   
Whatever had worked on the many foolish girls J had tossed in the sheets with before didn't even slightly work on you. When you met him, he'd began rebuilding his reputation as the biggest crime lord in all of Gotham, however you'd already acclaimed the title of the most wanted. The problem with you was that you couldn't be caught. You were a shadow, a whisper, a breeze than ran by J's cheek when he and his henchmen tried to break into your manor in the middle of a dead night. You planned for murder that night, you intended to watch with a smile as the life died from his crazy blue eyes at your hands. But when his henchmen littered the floor of the manor's foyer, their blood staining your white rugs while J laughed and clapped, before bowing to you, you'd decided you might keep him. Since then you'd became "partners" and invested in the club, but J was obsessed with domination, being in control to an almost frightening extent. Everyone was inferior to the Clown King. Well, everyone except the Clown Queen. 

The click of the lock on your dressing room door pulled you from your reverie, and the dagger you were playing with left your hand in a matter of seconds.   
It found a home in the space of wall beside Joker's head, a strand of bright green hair falling down across his face from the breeze the dagger had left in its wake. Though he didn't flinch, you registered the shock and small amount of panic in his eyes before it died and cold, simmering irritation replaced it.  
"Knock before you enter," you growled at him.   
He laughed and raised his eyebrows as he began walking toward the couch you lounged on, "careful," he said, "in case you're forgetting, dollface," he sneered, "I pay for this room, so I'll enter as I please."   
"I make your money for you, Clown Boy. You know they pay for me," you smirked. What you were saying was true, but by the gods, did J hate to hear it. He stomped the last few steps toward you, his hand outstretched and reaching for you. You kicked a foot out to stop, or at the very least slow him, but he grabbed at it and pulled so you slouched further into the plush couch as he towered over you.   
You swallowed your yelp of surprise and schooled your features into neutrality.  
"Listen, Dollface," he ordered, "I'm getting really tired of your little games," he began to kneel, your leg coming to rest over his shoulder, "you made a fool of me out there," his hands stroked their way up your thighs and came to rest on your waist and he leaned up, your leg stretching between your bodies, "I'm gonna let you off easy tonight," he drawled, and you wondered what his definition of easy was, "because of this beautiful, wonderful surprise." he fiddled with the diamonds on the gold chain of lingerie at your hip. And despite yourself, despite how dominating and arrogant he was being, you couldn't help the flood of warmth that spread throughout your body from where he'd touched.   
"It won't. Happen. Again. Understand?" He snapped as he yanked you closer, aware he was causing a small amount of pain in your leg.   
You gave no response. The audacity and self authority of this man, while it mostly turned you on, infuriated you like nothing else did.   
You always had a few tricks to match it, though, always did something he wouldn't expect, always crossed one, two or a dozen lines between you two and your strange relationship.   
You put on a mock submissive face and nodded, "it won't happen again, Mr J." You said, like the good girl you were.   
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, and though you knew it wasn't real, though you knew he was trying to ingrain a pretence of kindness into your perception of him, a small, old, dying part of your heart gave a tiny flutter.   
He slowly eased himself away from you, releasing your leg as he made to pull you into his lap, clearly not done with you yet.  
You crushed that flutter at the same time you grabbed J's wrists and pinned him to the floor. 

He barked in protest and struggled to flip the two of you. He was strong, but you had the element of surprise, years of training with and without the very man you pinned beneath you and a knee hovering threateningly over his sensitive crotch.   
"I'm gonna tell you two things, Mistah J," you growled as eyes of ice cold fury stared back into yours, "the first thing is that I know you're my partner, the fire to my loins, the light of my life, but you know you can't control me, and I don't take orders from a jester," he hissed at you, "yet I chose to stay. You know why?" He stayed silent, his lip twitching in anger. You leaned down, every bit his own reflection bar the green hair, "ask me why, J." You ordered, lowering your knee onto his crotch. Not enough to cause him pain, but enough to cause discomfort.   
"Why?" He grunted.   
You smiled, "because I like you," you grinned, and kissed his cheek. And although you could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, he leaned into your lips, "make of that what you will." You whispered in his ear.   
"The second thing is," you continued, raising your head to meet his furious gaze again, "you and me both know I ain't a toy. I ain't like the gals you've had before, J, so you call me by my name or you don't address me at all. I'll walk outta here tonight and never look back, and you won't be able to find me. Understood?"   
The blighter stayed silent. You pressed your knee down again, harder this time. He narrowed his eyes at you and ground out, "understood."   
Oh, you were going to regret this when you got off him, "understood, what?"   
"Understood, y/n."  
You smiled a kind smile, "puuuurrrrrfect," you said, "now, the third thing is, let's fuck."   
A hint of his crazy grinned revealed itself at that, "you said two things, dollf- y/n."  
You were surprised he actually said it, but didn't let it show. You leaned down, kissed him tenderly on the lips, pulled back the smallest bit just to look into his icy eyes and said, "I'm a liar, J."

And with that you eased your hold on him enough to let him flip the two of you around, pinning your wrists above your head. While you were a bit frightened, you knew he wouldn't hurt you, but you knew it wouldn't be easy to get off. Still, the crazy look in his eyes as they roamed your body was enough for you to forget your fright.   
"Aw baby," he said as his eyes continued to drink you in. You turned your head to the right, exposing your neck and chest to him.   
He held your wrists with one hand and used his other to snap your face toward his, "I hate it when you play with me," he said as he leaned down to kiss your lips.   
"I hate it when you make a fool outta me," he continued as he moved to your jawline, "I hate it when you're in control," he kissed your neck, a long, slow kiss. You suppressed a moan.   
"I hate how you're just like me," he kissed your collar bone, "I hate how you have more tricks than I do," your left breast, "I hate how you can just disappear," your right breast, "I hate how I feel around you," that statement both surprised and exhilarated you as his kisses travelled to your navel. You'd suspected you meant something more to him than just partners in crime, but you'd never expected him to admit it.   
"But most of all," he said onto your skin as he kissed the spaces of bare skin between the diamond lingerie, "I hate," he began to slide the dazzling garment off, releasing your wrists and kissing lower as he went, "I hate how I love it, y/n."   
And with that, the crystals and gold were off and you were bare to the skin beneath him.   
Oh, how he liked that as he lowered his face to your core. He looked up and smirked at you before he kissed your entrance, teasingly sliding his tongue down the length of you. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, the thrumming in your bones heightening, the ecstasy pulsing through you in waves as he feasted on you. You could barely suppress your moans before you decided to not bother at all, and screamed his name in pleasure as you felt your orgasm build up, completely forgetting how much debt you were in to him.  
Until, of course, he pulled away at the last millisecond and left you a confused and sweaty mess beneath him. He chuckled darkly and watched as you heaved up onto your elbows and glared. "I told you you'd pay, y/n, and boy am I just getting started." He laughed manically as he lowered himself on his hands above you, looking down into your pouty face.   
He leaned into you and kissed you slowly, in a way that made you sleepy with pleasure.   
You ran your hands down his partly exposed chest, feigning submission as you lowered yourself onto your back. And as his elbows came to rest on either side of your head, you grabbed the braces attached to his pants and flipped you both again.   
He grumbled in annoyance, but didn't care to move as you detached yourself from his lips and straddled him. You let go of the brace and it snapped against his chest, "ouch." He said, but he was smiling.   
"You have too many clothes on," you said as you ran your hands up his chest.   
He grabbed your hands and halted their movements, "I decide when my clothes come off."   
You yanked your hands out of his grip and growled, "and I decide when I wanna come. Which happens to be now."   
He threw his head back and laughed that infuriating laugh of his, before he ripped off his braces and shirt, exposing his chiselled torso to you.   
He sat up as he did this, so your bare chests were touching and your faces were millimetres apart. You rested your head against His forehead and he smiled a great toothy smile at you, "you drive me crazy, y/n."   
You kissed him once before standing the two of you up and dropping to your knees, unbuckling his belt as he dropped his head back and laughed a grumbly laugh.   
"I told you before, J," you said as you his pants fell to his ankles, his cock now free and in your face.   
You held it gently, like a lover would, stroking it once as you said, "I don't drive you crazy," you kissed his tip, "I drive you INSANE!" You repeated your earlier words to him as you sprang up from your knees, kissed him hard and yanked him down onto the plush sofa before he could so much as blink. 

You thought he might get angry, but he seemed too aroused to care, "I'm done playing games." He said, and the stare he gave you as he hovered above you could have been enough to send you over the edge.   
You bit your lip, "then finish this." You smirked, barely able to contain your excitement and arousal.   
He laughed and shook his head as he lowered himself over you, closer this time, kissing your lips, your neck, your breasts as his slender hand travelled down your stomach and stopped at its desired location. You fisted a hand in his hair as he rubbed your clit, sliding one finger in to your already wet core, pumping in and out slowly as he kissed you hard. He slid in another, still rubbing your clit as his thrusts came faster and harder. He curled his fingers inside of you, and you felt the rush of your orgasm building yet again as you screamed his name.   
And then the scream died on your lips as he pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, chuckling down at you like a clown.   
You growled low in your throat, "I thought you were done playing games, clown boy,"   
He stroked his now wet hand up your body and fondled your breast, "I'm a liar too, y/n."   
You narrowed your eyes, "fuck me." You said.   
He pinched your nipple, "beg for it." He ordered.  
You laughed, a laugh just a manic as his, "fuck me, or fuck yourself. You choose, J."   
His grin faded a bit at that, but his eyes were still alight. God, you loved to play with him.   
"Beg for it," he tried again, persistent on keeping his cock inches away from you rather than inside you.   
You shook you head, "fine. My turn."   
And with that you flipped the two of you once again and slid yourself down onto his cock. Despite how he'd tried to dominate you before, he couldn't help but grab your hips and throw his head back as you moved and bounced and circled atop him.   
Your movements grew faster, but before you could do anything more he moved again so he was atop you, thrusting in and out of you fast and hard, moving in a rhythm much like the one you two had danced to. He lowered his face into your neck and growled your name onto your skin before he turned you once again and fucked you from behind.   
You two enjoyed each other in various different ways for the better part of 2 hours before finally, as J fucked you against the cold marble walls, you yelled his name in pleasure and let the thrumming in your bones and ecstasy in your veins flow out of you with your fifth, possibly sixth orgasm, leaving you in an exhausted, sweaty, but content mess.  
J followed shortly after, grumbling, "y/n, y/n, y/n," against your skin.   
Usually he left you and went to his quarters, or you left him to shower and get some sleep. But tonight he laid you down on the plush couch, grabbed the throw that hung on the arm of it and held you. "Same time tomorrow, y/n." He said against the shell of your ear.   
"Hmm," you teased, "what if I fancy a round with Deadshot tomorrow?"   
He tightened his arm around you and whispered, "I'll organise his funeral."   
Something changed between you two that night, perhaps another rebuilt line had been crossed. For better or worse you couldn't quite tell. You could only lay in his arms, drifting silently to sleep, wondering what the hell your shit show of a life was as the most wanted woman in Gotham, while the most wanted man in Gotham slept like a log behind you.


End file.
